


An Eventful Twelve Hour Delay

by gill_like_j



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 09:48:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4175304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gill_like_j/pseuds/gill_like_j
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Annabeth's flight back home is delayed after one of the most trying days of her life. But a bartender named Percy is doing everything in his power to try and make this problem the best time of her life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Eventful Twelve Hour Delay

Joey was a regular at my fine establishment. He came every Friday, Saturday and Tuesday night. Never bothered to ask why Tuesday, on account of the fact he's one of the biggest dicks I've ever met. Joey, like most frequent customers, was predictable in his mannerisms. He had already reached the maximum amount of drinks allowed; he had a knack for doing that. He slammed his pint down on the table, as he always does. He scanned the crowd, as if he was just noticing the only three people here, including me. And, typical Joey, he eyed the only female in the entire establishment. She had her head in her hand with her elbow rested on the bar counter. Her drink, a coke and rum, was held in her remaining hand. Anyone with logic could see she was not in the mood for a conversation. But Joey, who could not have that thought process sober, decided it was a good time to chat her up. He stood up and started walking towards her, but didn't make three steps before she put her glass down. She looked up at him with a glare that would make children cry. 

"What shit are you going to try to pull?"

He hesitated. "Excuse me?"

"I said, what shit. Are you going. To pull?" When his confusion didn't pass, she continued. "Are you going to pull the 'Hey, sweet thing. How are you?' Or maybe you're the kind to go 'Come on, babe. Let's get out of here.' How about 'What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?' What stupid joke are you going to say to make me laugh to get into my pants? Huh? _What shit are you gonna try to pull?_ " She was getting angry, getting up from her seat with painful disdain. "Unless you have the best fucking joke in the history of mankind, I kindly suggest you get the hell out of my face with your disgusting scotch breath." 

His eyes were wide now. Without a second thought, he turned to me, slammed $50 on the counter and ran out like he was on fire. She went back to her stool and took a big swig of her drink. Sighing, she asked "What kind of guy goes to a bar on a Tuesday anyway?"

My mouth was wide open but I couldn't seem to utter a sound. Finally, I managed to mutter, "Do you want another drink on the house?"

She looked up at me, realizing I had been there. "Oh, thanks. That would be wonderful."

"Coke and rum, right?"

"Yes please." 

As I poured the drink, I tried to look at the girl out of the corner of my eye, mainly because I was too scared to look straight at her. She didn't seem to take any sort of advance too well, and I didn't want to get on her bad side. Her soft face was framed by wavy hair the color of chamomile tea. She only looked around my age, but she had a mature stance. She straddled the stool with a thoughtless precision.

"So, boarding school or horseback rider?"

She looked surprised for a moment. After a moment of hesitation, she admitted, "Horseback. How did you know?"

"My mom rode horses when she grew up. She hasn't ridden in years but she still sits like that most of the time." She purposefully slouched in her seat, glancing down at the glass in her hand. Her cup was almost empty again, so I asked if she wanted another. "Won't you get in trouble with your boss if you keep giving me free drinks?"

"My boss is me, so it would be pretty difficult to get in trouble. I mean, it happens on occasion but not for stuff like this." She chuckled a bit as she passed me the glass.

"I appreciate it, but I've probably already had too much to drink. Thanks anyway."

"No problem. I guess I just wanted a way to thank you. The look on Joey's face when you told him off would be enough to give my week's salary."

Her laughter rang through the small bar like bells on Christmas morning. It was enough to send a warm shiver through me.

"So what's your name?" she asked, and all of a sudden I felt my palms start to sweat. I

"Percy, of Brooklyn, New York." _Wow, why did I say that?_ "And what might yours be?"

"Annabeth, of San Francisco."

I whistled, "Wow, that's a pretty long ways away. What're out here for? Friends? Business?"

"Both," she sighed, then took the last sip of her drink. "I came out here for an interview. Didn't get it. Then I go to visit an old friend. I guess it must've been bad timing cause he's got a new 'friend'. You know what I mean?" I nodded. "So then I go to the airport so I can go home, and I can't even do that."

"Flight got delayed?"

"Twelve hours." I winced, pulling a dumb face in the process. She tried to hold back a laugh, which only partially worked. I smiled at her, staring into her eyes. I guess I must have stared too long, because she pulled a confused face and asked what was wrong. She still had a hint of a smile, so I knew she wasn't uncomfortable. Just concerned, maybe?

"To be honest, I'm trying to figure out what your eye color is. The light's too dim, I can't see well." I moved closer, careful not to trip over my own feet. Our noses were practically touching. 

"Ah, gray. I see." I backed up, and for a second I thought she leaned forward to compensate. "I like gray eyes. Very pretty."

She blushed a bit, which I could still hardly see in the lighting. "Thanks," she said, and I smiled again. I couldn't seem to help myself; she was beautiful. 

"So if your flight's delayed, where are you staying?"

"Nowhere. I checked out of the hotel this morning, and I called to get a new room but they're booked."

"You could always stay here, if you wanted to."

"In the bar?" She inquired. 

"No, no," I backpedaled, "My apartment's upstairs. You could just stay the night and be ready to go back to the airport in the morning." 

She hesitated, looking me up and down. After a few seconds, she slowly said, "I'm sorry. You seem sweet, and you are really... Well, hot. You're hot. But I'm really drunk right now and I don't think it would be such a good idea to-"

"Woah there, miss. I was just suggesting you sleep in my bed and I sleep on the couch. It just seemed like it would be more convenient for you than a hotel, since the airport is so close and all." 

"Oh," her blush, which hadn't worn off from before, deepened. "Okay, can we just forget the last 30 seconds ever happened?"

"Deal." I held out my hand, and she shook it firmly. "Wait, I'm hot?"

"I thought you said you'd forget it," she glared.

"Okay, okay," I held up my hands in mock surrender, "It never happened."


End file.
